


Barrayaran Etiquette for the Recently Betrothed

by Gwynne



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: F/M, Naughty bits alert - send young children and impressionable animals out of the room.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-26
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 01:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwynne/pseuds/Gwynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just what are the rules for the second time around?</p><p>+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barrayaran Etiquette for the Recently Betrothed

Ekaterin didn’t notice it at first.

There was the wild high of her very public proposal, closely followed by the rising frenzy leading up to the Imperial wedding. And then the heart-stopping rush to get to know her dauntingly famous future in-laws before they returned to Chaos Colony, as Cordelia called it (Cordelia! She was calling Countess Vorkosigan by her first name!) 

She dined at the Residence, in what they seemed to think of as ‘one of the smaller salons’ (apparently any room too small to land a shuttle was considered cosy). She sat AT THE SAME TABLE AS THE EMPEROR and managed not to spill anything and avoided saying something stupid. She even managed, with practice, to participate in the conversation without sounding like a star-struck idiot. When Miles fed her a leading question about gardens she actually had an enjoyable discussion with …Gregor… (she was asked to call the Emperor THE EMPEROR by his first name! And managed to do it!) about updating the Residence gardens. And chatted about Sergyaran flora with her future father-in-law (she couldn’t call him Aral yet. She needed time for that one.) 

Laisa (the new EMPRESS Laisa!) invited her to the Residence a few times to take tea like proper Barrayaran ladies. They started a friendship they’d both need – they were going to be family, and were both facing challenging new lives. They built an unofficial support group with Olivia and Delia Koudelka, both of them also about to launch into somewhat choppy matrimonial waters. 

And then there was the excitement of her next garden commission – an upgrade of the literally downtrodden garden courtyard at Vorrutyer House. And she had to sign up for her university courses, a marvellous step forward.

With her new, heady social life, her work and her university courses, Ekaterin’s life was a whirl of excitement. And added to that was the dazzling joy of Miles, of loving and being loved. Of not being alone any more. 

So, Ekaterin didn’t notice it at first. 

Miles was marvellous. He was loving and supportive, he eased her through some daunting social situations (She could cope with the Emperor as a close relative, she could deal with the Viceroy and Vicereine as parents-in-law, but Lady Alys as an aunt? That was almost a deal-breaker.) He came to see her almost every day, either dining with the Vorthyses or inviting them all to Vorkosigan House. They even had a few private dinners, just the two of them – usually in Miles’s own quarters. Dinner, conversation and a little decorous snuggling before he delivered her back to the Vorthys household. Ekaterin loved planning their future with Miles, listening to his grand ambitions for them both – he really did think in planetary terms. He was obviously blissed-out by the betrothal. Well, so was she.

But, gradually, she started to notice. There was something… something missing. Waiting. Unsaid.

It wasn’t like her first betrothal. She tried hard to avoid constant comparisons, this second time around was so very different. But there wasn’t this feeling of…something waiting, not that first time. She’d been excited, and a little nervous, because a girl’s first time is always scary. A Vor maiden was expected to be pure until her wedding night, she and Tien had waited until then, of course. This time around she was a widow with a body-borne child, in no way an innocent maiden.

Ah.

What was the etiquette for non-maidens before marriage?

Were they supposed to wait until the wedding night? But she and Miles were both adults with experience in the world. She wasn’t a maiden in need of protection (and she’d never been protected in any way that mattered, anyway.) Miles did many things for her, but he didn’t try to shield her from life – he encouraged her to enjoy the world. So… What was she waiting for? In fact, what was he waiting for?

Miles was waiting for Ekaterin to be ready. He wouldn’t pressure her in any way, she knew that. It was up to her.

So all she had to do was…. She just had to tell him… after all, how could you be embarrassed to ask someone you loved to… 

Miles was right, she was over-socialised.

But it wasn’t just telling Miles she’d like to…. um… stay the night. There were his armsmen, and the Vorkosigan servants, and her aunt and uncle, and… 

And none of that mattered. 

Dammit.

This wasn’t just to please Miles. She wanted him. She wanted that wild energy, that total focus. She wanted to feel the rush of desire. She wanted to be totally alive. And she wanted to know what it would be like to have a partner who wasn’t Tien. Would it be different with a different partner? Or would she still be the same? Miles… just the thought of touching and being touched sent delicious shivers through her. Sometimes her skin almost ached to be touched. It had to be different with him. And she wanted to know. Why wait? They were both free, consenting adults. Betrothed was almost as binding as married. 

Miles wasn’t going to ask. He wasn’t going to pressure her. It was up to her to take what she wanted. And she did most definitely want. It was just the logistics that would take some organisation.

She was an adult. A grown, experienced woman. She had every right to …um… stay the night with her betrothed. So she’d just march in and…

Well, it’d take a bit of planning. But, as it happened, Nikki was spending the night with Arthur Pym. And she and Miles were having one of their private dinners, a blessed change from those formal High Vor galas. (When had her life become so full that dining at the Residence was no longer a novelty? Miles really did change worlds.)

First, pack an overnight bag. At times like this a woman needs something silky, flowing and alluring. Ekaterin checked her wardrobe and did her best. She also packed some clothes for the next day – there was no way she was coming home in the same clothes that she wore the night before. Standards are everything.

“Aunt Helen,” gulp, “I’m dining with Miles tonight. And… and I won’t be home until late. Early. Tomorrow morning, I mean.”

“That’s nice, dear. Do you have everything you need?”

It’d take more than a night of pre-matrimonial bliss to discompose her aunt.

Pym came to collect her, “My lord has been held up in a meeting, my lady. He’ll be back soon, he thought you might like to browse through the library for a time.”

“Thank you.” Anticlimax. Ekaterin clutched the small overnight bag and watched Vorbarr Sultana slide past. No. Don’t dwindle. You’re a brave, free adult woman who is going to be enjoyed to the full tonight. Carry it off with style.

At Vorkosigan House she followed Pym to the library, then took a deep breath and held out her bag, “Pym, would you take this up to Lord Vorkosigan’s suite please? I’ll be staying the night.”

Superb man. He didn’t even blink. “Yes, my lady. I’ll bring you some tea in a moment.”

Ekaterin stared at the shelves. Probably they’d been making bets in the servants’ hall, wondering how long it’d take her to stay the night. She wondered who scooped the pool. Pym, no doubt. The man seemed to know everything before it happened.

Miles swept in a few minutes later, full of the juciest political gossip, and complaints about the latest lunacy from the Council of Counts. Ekaterin let his enthusiasm carry her along. She loved his energy, his total focus, his wit and fierce intelligence. Everything seemed sharper and more real when he was around. 

Miles showed her a new volume he’d discovered in the far corner of the library, a historical tome that would give Aunt Vorthys days of delighted researching. Then he ushered her through some of the odd byways of the great house – she was still trying to learn her way around the place. Embarrassing to get lost in your own home, she needed to learn the twists and turns. (Who designed it all, anyway? Someone who did a lot of jigsaw puzzles maybe.) They ended up in his sitting room, enjoying a marvellous Ma Kosti meal. They discussed her university courses, and planned a trip to Vorkosigan Surleau as they snuggled in post-meal satisfaction. 

Finally Miles stretched and sighed happily, “I love our evenings together, but it’s time to get you home again. I don’t want to deliver you too late and disturb your aunt and uncle.”

Deep breath. Suddenly she couldn’t stop smiling, although nervous tension made it difficult to keep her voice steady, “Actually, Miles, I thought I’d go home tomorrow morning. If that’s alright with you.”

He was still for a moment, then his smile grew to match hers, “Uh… really? You want to…stay? Here? Tonight?” He was talking faster now, “With me?”

“Most definitely with you. I’m betrothed to you, I’m entitled.”

“Ohhh… a demanding woman.”

“Damn straight. I demand… you.”

She should feel more nervous, but all she felt was a blinding urge to grab him and find out what it would be like to indulge herself in pure – or marvellously impure – physical pleasures.

Miles bowed gracefully, took her hand and kissed it, “I hear and obey, my lady.” 

In the doorway to the bedroom they both paused. The room lights were dim, and a fire – totally unnecessary in midsummer – burnt low in the grate, sending a warm glow through the room. The bed had been turned down, and her white nightshift shimmered beside black silk pyjamas.

“Pym’s been busy.” Miles seemed to hover between amused and confronted.

“Pym is a very smart man. First dibs on the bathroom.” She scooped up the nightshift and scuttled away. 

Not long now. Soon, soon she’d know. She wanted this to be perfect. But Miles – he’d had women all over the Nexus – what would he expect? Would she be able to keep up? Well, they’d just have to keep practising, she was prepared to put in all the time that was needed. She grinned, imagining a university course in carnal delights. What would it take to earn Honours? Aim high.

When she stepped out of the bathroom she realised what a superb tactician Miles was – he must have rushed off to another bathroom, he was already stretched out on the bed, exotically handsome in black silk pyjama pants, chest bare and hair still damp from a quick shower. He gave her a dazzling smile of welcome, then reached to touch the room controls to drop the lights.

“No, leave the lights on. I want to see you.” She wanted to touch that velvet skin, trace every scar, see his life told on his body. And feel that body against hers, skin to skin.

What to do first? Leaping onto him didn’t seem sophisticated enough, although it was tempting. 

Suddenly she felt overdressed. Slowly she reached up and loosened the ribbons at her throat, then slid the nightshift from her shoulders. The soft fabric whispered down her arms, baring her breasts, sliding down to her hips, then falling away to pool at her ankles. She stood there, naked, exposed and vulnerable.

“Ekaterin… sweet lady, you take my breath away.”

She was on the bed, and in his arms. His hands were warm on her skin, he traced his fingertips across her shoulders and then down, caressing her breasts, circling each nipple then leaning forward to trace them gently with his tongue. Ekaterin gasped at his touch, her skin felt more alive, more aware, than ever before. She reached for him, feeling the muscles moving under his skin, the sharp bones beneath. 

His energy was focussed and controlled, he spent long languorous moments bringing every part of her body alive. They explored each other, greedy for new discoveries. Ekaterin took hold of the black silk and slid it down, pushing it away impatiently and revelling in the sounds he made as she touched and stroked, taking possession of her new territory.

He nibbled and bit, he kissed and stroked and sucked and tasted. He ran his fingernails lightly across her skin, silver trails of sensation. He rolled her over and slapped her bottom, he was wild and energetic, gentle and adoring. She was surprised by his strength, and the responses he could raise from her body.

She made noises she’d never heard before. And she found ways to make him groan, and moan, and cry out loud with delight. Noisy, she’d never been noisy.

She didn’t have to build fantasies in her mind, the reality was taking her far beyond any of the sad, tainted imaginings that she’d needed with Tien. With Miles she was totally in the moment, with Miles the noise in her head stopped. No pictures, no comments, no tensions or questions or worries. With Miles she was utterly alive, completely herself, totally aware at a whole new level. She laughed for pure joy, she moaned, she cried out as the wild sensations rose.

A lifetime later they lay curled up together, sated, in the afterglow. She stroked his arm slowly, loving the right to touch when she pleased. 

“Mmm? All okay?”

“Ohhh yes.”

They drifted for a while, then slow touches became more urgent, breathing faster, and the wildness took them again.

Finally they spiralled down to the dreamless sleep of the gloriously exhausted.

Ekaterin woke, confused. There was someone in her bed. A man. There was a man in her bed. She opened her eyes. It wasn’t her bed. But it was her man. Miles stirred, then gave her an evil grin, “Good morning, my lady. Would you like to make it an even better morning?”

Miles was right, height wasn’t relevant when you were horizontal. And it was a wonderful morning.

They snuggled together while they recovered from their sweet exertions. Ekaterin didn’t think she’d ever stop craving his touch, it was wonderful to feel his warmth beside her. There was a rattle of teacups from the parlour, and Pym’s voice, “Good morning my lord. Your breakfast is on the table.” Then the outer door closed.

“Hmmm, breakfast an hour late. And no cup of coffee by my bedside. Pym is being discreet.”

“I don’t want to know how he knew when to deliver breakfast. Dibs on the bathroom again.”

“Ha. I’m marrying a bathroom-hog. I foresee a lifetime of suffering, forced to always come second.”

“For which I am extremely grateful.” She gave a wicked grin to add new meaning to the comment, then hurried away.

The inestimable Pym had served all the food on keep-hot plates rather than the usual ordinary china. Miles grinned, wondering just how Pym knew how long it would take the two of them to finally get to the breakfast table. Best not to dwell on it.

Breakfast was still hot, but disgracefully late. Ekaterin was her usual perfectly-groomed self, although she had a tendency to grin, and even giggle. Miles was smugly preening. The meal was punctuated by caresses, they couldn’t stop reaching to touch, stroke, just revel in the new awareness between them.

“Miles?”

“Mmmm?” Miles was on his second cup of coffee, the world was a perfect place this morning.

“You’ve had all those women out there…”

“Well, not all of the women out there. Ivan’s had quite a few of them. And I did have to take time for missions.”

She waved a dismissive hand, “Lots of them. Far more than ... I mean, I only had – one - before you. You’ve had way more than that.”

“Uh... yes?” Cautiously. 

“Well, it’s just that – if there’s anything that you like. Want. Anything that they did – I mean, I haven’t had much… um… variety. I probably don’t know… what I mean is… if there’s anything you want me to – if you let me know, I’ll - you might have to teach me, but I’ll learn…”

Miles cut her off with a kiss, then leaned back, “Let’s start fresh. Everything is new, and we’ll just try things to find out what pleases us both.”

“That could take some time.”

“Ah yes, you’ll be amazed at my dedicated work ethic. I’ll give it my all.”

“You can have all of mine, as well. And Miles?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For being you. For being wonderful. Oh, and for that thing you did with… we’ll discuss that later. But thank you for waiting till I was ready for all this.”

“Ekaterin…” he was suddenly serious, “You are – you have all my heart. And you have the pure right to anything I can do, or give. Time, attention, whatever you need, you will have. You’re beyond my hopes, or imagining. Grace, honour, warmth, love – you bring it all. I’d wait forever for you.” He was deadly serious now, incredibly intense.

“Thank you.” Just a whisper, her throat tight with emotion. “Miles…”

Another kiss, coffee-flavoured, beyond passion, almost a benediction. 

“Mine.” 

And at that moment no other word could be as sweet.


End file.
